


To Sleep, Perchance To Dream

by terma_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-01-01
Updated: 2002-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:21:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26498557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terma_archivist/pseuds/terma_archivist
Summary: Note from alicettlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived atTER/MAand was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address onthe TER/MA collection profile.
Relationships: Alex Krycek/Fox Mulder
Kudos: 1
Collections: TER/MA





	To Sleep, Perchance To Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alicettlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [TER/MA](https://fanlore.org/wiki/TER/MA) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [the TER/MA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/terma/profile).

  
**To Sleep, Perchance to Dream  
by Phyre**

  
_"Dreams are answers to questions we haven't yet figured out how to ask."  
Fox Mulder—'Aubrey'_

  
Translucent white curtains shimmered their response to the oppressive tropical heat drifting through the open windows. White fan blades turned in a lazy circle inches from the high ceiling, gently stirring the heavy midnight air. The room held a bed with rumpled sheets, and a naked seated man, his face illuminated by moonlight. He watched as another man, kneeling between his thighs, licked and nipped at his swollen cock.

Inhaling the musky scent of sweat and semen Fox Mulder knew he wore both. His chest, shiny slick to the naked eye, was sticky and taut. The sparse matted hairs pulled against his skin with every ragged breath and still he watched, frozen in rapt fascination, his hands held fast on the damp, disheveled bed.

The other man's face was hidden but short, dark, sweat soaked hair emphasized the curve of his skull. Well-defined muscles shifted just under the bare golden skin of his shoulders and back.

Mulder felt heat and tension pool to his groin as the wet, searing mouth drew him in harder, deeper, all but swallowing him. His head dropped back, fingers clawed helplessly at the sheets as he let out a primal yell and pumped his thick juices into the hot waiting mouth.

* * *

Mulder awoke disoriented, his scream still ringing in his ears. His tongue worked in vain, searching for enough saliva to moisten his dry throat. Sweat stung his eyes; he blinked roughly, adjusting to the semi-darkness. His cock, hard and aching, begged for a touch.

Another empty, lonely release found by his own hand, another night's sleep lost.

Hours later in the small basement office the dream replayed with vivid clarity through Mulder's mind. Every image perfect... save one... the man's face. It had been the same as the previous night and so many nights before—-a week worth of nights.

Always awakening at the exact same place and knowing no more now than he did that first time. Well, at least I'm not screaming in fear, there's some satisfaction in that. He shook his head and gave a rueful grin. The content of the dream didn't bother him; it was the anonymity. I'm not in a relationship. Haven't been for years. Not that I would call any of my encounters _relationships_.

Still this dream of a faceless man ate away at him, causing him to lose his edge at work. He saw concern in the eyes of his colleagues, especially the ones of his partner.

"Jesus, Mulder, you look like shit." Rough delivery but Alex Krycek was never subtle... ever.

Startled from his thoughts, Mulder regarded his partner coolly under the harsh fluorescent light of the office. Fuck. How long has he been standing there? "Sorry Krycek, I had no idea my looks offended you."

Krycek offered a tightlipped smile. Hardly. Oh no... don't go there.

"No offense intended Mulder, you just look beat. What's the problem? Trouble sleeping?" Dropping into the nearest chair, he waited for an answer. Go ahead, lie to me. Tell me 'no'.

The solicitous tone in his voice made Mulder glance up from the file in his hand. Since he and Krycek had once again become partners some months back, they had formed a type of uneasy alliance. It was hard to forget the betrayals but Mulder was learning to live with the myriad of feelings. He was almost beginning to trust Krycek a little. For a brief moment, he closed his eyes. But I'm not trusting you with this.

"No... yeah..." Mulder let out a frustrated sigh, leaned back in his chair and locked his fingers behind his head in a modified stretch. "Weird dreams, that's all. Don't worry about it, Krycek, I'll be fine."

"You want to talk about it?"

There was no mistaking the genuine concern. He froze in his thoughts. Talk about this? With you? I'd rather choke. I don't want to talk about this with anyone. It's hard enough recognizing it for what it is. What it means. Took me years to admit it to myself. I am not about to admit it to you.

"No... no, but thanks anyway."

"The offer's on the table if you change your mind." Krycek smiled. Relax Mulder, I'll change the subject. That's what you want.

"We have a meeting upstairs in 10 minutes, you have everything?" Krycek continued.

"Yeah, I've got it all. Is this a long one?"

"No. 15 or 20 minutes tops—we need to divide these records between us and arrange some kind of cross-referencing system. Hey, can you grab the file on the Kingston Clinic? It's in the bottom right hand drawer." Krycek busied himself gathering the last few sheets of paper and tucked them into a manila folder.

Mulder leaned down to the half-opened drawer. After a moment of rifling through files he came up empty handed and more than a little frustrated. "Are you sure it's in here? I can't find it."

"I know it's in there."

"Then _you_ look. I've got a call I need to make." The aggravation was clearly evident now by the clipped words and icy tone. Mulder reached for the telephone, moving aside to let his partner nearer to the desk.

Krycek looked over at him, a quick retort burning his tongue in an effort to escape. He swallowed it back down knowing it wouldn't help the situation. He hunkered down to examine the contents of the drawer, all six feet of him folding tightly into the compact space while muscles moved fluidly under the fabric of the white button-down. He half listened to the drone of Mulder's voice in the one sided conversation; the words didn't interest him in the least, it was the exhaustion and anxiety surrounding them that held his attention. What the hell's going on with him?

"I know the damn file is in here somewhere. Did it ever occur to you to straighten up this mess every so often?" Krycek knew he wouldn't get a response but felt he should offer up some token of discontent all the same. Hearing Mulder repeat a time, he felt the swivel chair shift as the agent moved to hang up the telephone, he looked up.

"What are you mumbling, Krycek?" Mulder asked, scribbling a note on the worn desk blotter.

"I said..." The rest was lost under a voice from across the room.

"So _this_ is what you guys do in the basement all day?"

The sweet southern drawl was a dead giveaway. Mulder's head snapped up at the unexpected sound. His eyes narrowed as he shot a cold look at Fairland Davis, leaning comfortably against the door frame.

Krycek sat back on his heels just enough to crane his head around the corner of the desk to look at Davis. "What?"

"Nothin'. The view's just a little different from over here, that's all." A broad smile lit up his face and rose all the way to his golden eyes, giving them a wicked gleam.

Glancing around, Krycek sized up the situation. Oh. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Davis. What's up?" he asked, trying desperately to mask the remains of the chuckle in his voice.

"We need the file on the Kingston Clinic." Davis answered as he moved into the office.

"Yeah, I know, I know, I'm still looking for it. What? The phone's not working?" He asked with a grin while searching for the elusive file.

"Just thought I'd deliver the message personally. Hey, Mulder... what's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Krycek looked up to find Mulder standing motionless, his features frozen in weird caricatures of themselves; eyes wide and glazed, mouth slightly open. He was staring at Krycek in what could only be termed utter disbelief mixed with undeniable horror.

Memories of the dream flashed before his eyes. The way Krycek looked at that angle, the shape of his skull, the hair, the... Jesus no! Oh fuck! Oh fuck no! It can't be him! Mulder's mouth developed that dry metallic taste; the one he always got when something really scared him. He tried swallowing but his throat muscles refused to cooperate.

"Mulder!"

Krycek's voice yanked him from the memory's tight grip; he felt a hand on his shoulder and nearly jumped out of his skin. Jerking away slightly, the backs of his legs came in contact with the swivel chair behind him. He nearly fell backwards. He looked disoriented but Krycek could tell he was fighting hard to regain control.

"Wha... what?" His voice barely functioned. Terror danced brightly in his eyes.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Are you all right?" Krycek's concern edged toward fear. Oh shit. What gives?

"I'm fine, I just... I just remembered something, okay? I'm fine, just forget it." He pulled back and away. Calm down you idiot. Can't let them see you like this. Push it in the corner. Think about it later. Get through the rest of this day. Anxiety and confusion married and set up house in this stomach. Oh Jesus... why? Why him? Krycek. _Krycek_!

"Mulder—"

Razor sharp words cut Krycek off mid sentence. "I said 'I'm fine', Krycek. Let it go." Mulder turned on his heel and walked out of the office, leaving the remaining two agents to stare slack-jawed at his retreating back.

Something other than anger and fear filtered through Mulder's words. Krycek couldn't put his finger on it but he didn't like it, not at all. He traded a wary look with Davis but let the subject drop just the same.

"Touchy today, isn't he?" Davis's voice lowered to a barely audible whisper.

"Been like this for at least a week now, haven't you noticed?" Krycek said, slowing his walk to get them just out of Mulder's earshot.

"For the most part I try not to notice anything about the guy but, yeah, he has been acting a little loopier than usual lately. I just figured it only happened when I was around." Davis replied.

Krycek sucked back a sigh and dipped his head in response. He knew there was no love lost between either of the men.

Generally he stood back from the tension that floated around them. He wouldn't... no he _couldn't_ choose sides and, thankfully, no one had asked that of him. A fierce sense of friendship and loyalty for Davis collided with a fierce sense of loyalty and something else, something he couldn't quite identify, for Mulder. It wasn't friendship, not in the same sense as his with Davis. He wasn't sure if Mulder even considered him a friend, an acquaintance perhaps, but probably not a friend. Mulder had a lot of acquaintances. Still there was something about him that made Krycek take notice, made him protective and it wasn't just the job. He had spent a few of his own sleepless nights trying to piece it together and come up with a few answers; just none he would admit to anyone.

"If you ask me, I think that guy could use some serious time on the couch... and not his own." Davis continued, conversationally.

"Go ahead, _you_ tell him that." Krycek laughed out his response.

"I'd rather not but thanks for the offer, Alex." Davis' voice bore a slight chuckle.

They caught up with Mulder and rode the elevator in uneasy silence, trading  
concerned glances behind his back.

* * *

Slash M/K  
  
Feedback and constructive criticism gratefully accepted and acknowledged. [email removed]   
---


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